Anything Can Be a Weapon If You Hold It Right
by Sidalee
Summary: Steve teaches Kono to use the sniper rifle, a McKono Smut Sunday fic. (Re-upload)


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize…

**A/N:** Don't know why but a few of my stories disappeared from my account so I had to re-post them. So yeah, nothing new. Sorry.

I wrote this because I like to think that Steve was the one who taught Kono to use the sniper rifle.

As usual thank you for reading and reviewing, I love writing for you guys!

Tell me what you think!

* * *

_But I'm holding back, that's the strength that I lack_

_Every morning keeps returning at my window_

_And it brings me to you and I won't just pass through_

_But I'm not asking for a storm_

…

It kind of gives her a rush, being out in the jungle with him, wearing fatigues and combat boots and it's definitely not just the humidity that makes her breathless.

Between her gun, sitting heavy at her back, and the way he speaks to her in his deep, low voice about the essentials of tracking, and God, the way he flexes his jaw and aims the sniper rifle, it's all she can do sometimes to not jump him right where he stands.

Kono tries to keep herself in check, though. Adrenaline's lead her to not-so-desirable places before, after all. So rather than attacking him, she listens to him talk, and tries to concentrate on the task at hand, and, yeah, sometimes ends up watching the way his muscles flex under his unprofessionally tight shirt.

She does try to learn a few things while she's at it, too.

For a while, it works.

Until the day, when Steve decides she should learn to shoot in the dark and moves in close, his breath warm on the back of her neck. He's talking to her, moving her arms into the proper firing position, shoving his foot between hers, and that's when she snaps.

It's then that she decides she just can't take it anymore – that his very presence and the silent jungle and everything is just too, _too_ much – and twists around in his arms, shoving him up against the thick bark of a tree.

"Whoa! Hey!" he shouts shocked, his expression confused in the dim moonlight.

She puts her hands on his face and drags his lips down to press against hers. The kiss is a little sloppy, a little rough, and when he responds, he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it lightly.

He grips her waist hard, yanking her against his body, while he pushes a hand under her shirt and the way his knuckles scrape her breast leaves her breathless for a moment or two. She fists his shirt in her hands before sliding her fingers up into his hair.

When he brushes a thumb across her nipple, she pulls away from him and steps back.

"Sorry," he mumbles, scratching at the back of his head.

"Don't be." She shakes her head and kisses him again.

Then she drops down in front of him, her knees pressing into the dirt, and starts undoing his belt buckle with nimble fingers.

"What are you doing?" he ask hoarsely, and she rolls her eyes.

"Should I draw you a picture or something?" she drawls.

God, he is so fucking dense sometimes.

She slides his zipper down and grins up at him before reaching her hand into his cargo pants and pulling him free. He's half hard already, and he grunts when she slowly pumps her hand up and down. When she licks the tip, his knees almost buckle.

"Gah," he says, sounding surprised which she finds kinda hilarious.

"Easy, tiger." Kono laughs and pushes at his hips, forcing him to lean into the support of the tree at his back.

She goes back to work on him, swiping her tongue along his length and hollowing out her cheeks as she takes him in again and again. He bucks his hips uncontrollably and she pushes him back again, chastising him with a hum.

Steve tangles a hand in her hair, the other balled into a tight fist at his side, his knuckles white. She glances up at him through her eyelashes, and he's breathing hard, trying not to make a lot of noise, but she can tell he's getting close.

He makes a noise that could definitely be described as a whimper when she moves one hand from the base and gently squeezes his balls.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes. His grip on her hair tightens. "Hey, I'm, uh…"

She keeps going, sucking harder and faster, and he comes with a shout, spilling into her mouth. She swallows it down quickly and leans back on her heels to look up at him.

"Fuck." He's staring down at her, his chest still heaving.

Feeling victorious, she smirks and rises to her feet in front of him. He hisses when she tucks him back in and does up his pants.

"Just so you know," Leaning in close to his ear she whispers. "I'm expecting you to return the favor one of these days."

The words are barely out of her mouth before she finds herself being spun around and pushed against the tree, Steve's weight heavy against her back.

"Hey," she starts, until she feels his fingers on the button of her cargos. "Oh."

He leans into her and kisses her neck, one hand pressed flat against her stomach while the other unzips her pants. She gasps when he snakes his hand down the front of her underwear.

"Fuck," she sighs, squirming as he tries to find a rhythm of some sort.

He works his fingers over her, inside of her, his mouth leaving possessive red marks on her neck as she presses herself down, grinding against his hand. She bites the inside of her mouth to keep from making noises as his rough, calloused digits rub patterns over her clit.

Her hands grab at the arm he's got wrapped around her middle, squeezing tightly, and her nails draw blood on his forearm when she comes.

He rests his forehead against her shoulder and breathes hot puffs of air against her neck.

"Why?" he asks simply.

"I like our lessons." She laughs breathlessly. "And _maybe_ I have a crush on the teacher."

"Fuck," he says amused and she can feel his grin on her skin a moment later. "I don't know if I ever want to go back, then."


End file.
